dragon archives 04 - dance with a dragon (18 page)

She heard a dog barking, and then the sound of voices. In the low light she could make out the forms of three men, and recognized Rupert amongst the group. She was panting as she reached them, and Rupert turned to look at her in surprise. In one hand he held a bow, and in the other, the lifeless form of the goose Anna had seen falling, the arrow still pierced through its neck. The ground at Rupert’s feet was stained red with blood, while a dog sniffed and whined, jumping from time to time at the dead bird which dangled above its nose.

“Anna,” Rupert said dryly. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Why did you shoot that goose?” she said. Rupert’s expression narrowed.

“Do you think I have to explain my actions to you?” he said.

“Well …” She glanced at the two men standing behind him. She recognized them from the time he had been hunting with the falcon. One of the men was clutching a brown hessian sack, and he stared at her in disbelief, while the other man smiled slyly. Rupert dropped the bird on the ground and stalked towards her.

“I do not need to explain myself to anyone, least of all you,” he said.

Anna stared back at him for a long moment, then glanced at the other men. She took a step backwards. “Of course, Your Highness,” she said.

“Now go,” he said. He turned his back to her and picked up the goose as she slowly walked backwards away from the men. She did not go far, but stopped next to a tree to watch. With a quick motion, Rupert pulled the arrow out of the dead bird, then dropped it in the sack that the man held open. A quiver of arrows was slung over Rupert’s back, and reaching over his shoulder, he pulled another one out, glancing up at the sky as he did so. The geese were gone, of course, but something else had caught his eye. Following the direction of his gaze, Anna looked up and saw a creature circling in the sky high overhead, a mere blot against the clouds.

“What’s that?” Rupert asked.

One of the men shrugged. “It is too far to tell, Your Highness,” he said. “Perhaps a crane.”

“Let’s find out,” Rupert said. He lifted his bow to his shoulder, and notched the arrow. Looking up again, Anna saw that the creature was circling lower and lower. The light was still too dim to make out what it was, but as she watched, she saw a glint of light reflecting from its back.

“No,” she whispered. “Get away from here.” Had the creature heard her? It continued to circle around. “No,” she said, “he’s going to shoot.” Rupert pulled the bow taut against his shoulder, and she drew in a breath as he released it, sending it straight towards the creature. “No!” she screamed. She saw Rupert turn towards her with a start, but a moment later he was turning back to the creature in the sky. Anna could no longer see the arrow, but surely it must have hit its mark by now. “Max,” she whispered. She saw Rupert pointing at the creature, which circled around one more time, then turned in the direction of the river and disappeared from view. Anna watched the place where he had disappeared, willing him to come back, hoping he would stay away. Her heart was racing in her chest, and her mouth felt as dry as sand. Inside her boots her feet were numb, but she barely noticed.

She stayed there for a long time, staring at the sky, but Max did not reappear. What had he been thinking, flying above the prince while he hunted? Surely he had seen the danger! When it became clear that his target had escaped, Rupert and his men moved away without another glance in her direction, heading towards the forest, but she gave them no heed. Had Max been injured? She had no way of knowing, but the thought of him dying, or dead, made her stomach twist into knots. The sun had risen behind the clouds, a dull, milky light, by the time Anna finally made her way back to the palace, dragging her feet slowly through the snow. Her boots were coated in a thick layer of mud, and she could no longer feel her fingers.

She was nearly at the courtyard when a young boy ran up to her. A thick mop of dirty blond hair fell over his forehead, and his cheeks were red from the cold. In his hand he held a long package, which he shoved towards her.

“I was told to give you this, Mistress,” he said. She looked down at the package in his small hands, and slowly took it from him. It was long, narrow, and very light. The boy spun on his heel and started running back across the courtyard.

“Wait,” she called after him. “Who gave it to you?”

“A man,” he replied, shouting over his shoulder. “He gave me a ha’penny to give it to you.”

Anna looked at the package again. Wrapped in thick oilcloth and bound with twine, there was nothing to indicate what it was or who it was from. Walking over to a low wall that ran along the edge of the courtyard, Anna sat down and examined the package a little closer. The twine had been knotted, but although the knot was not tight, Anna’s fingers were cold, and she fumbled for a few moments in frustration until she used her teeth to loosen the binding. She eased the string off the package, and pulling it open, stared down at the arrow that lay within. Its shaft was slightly bent, and one of the striped feathers had been broken. It had an iron arrowhead, about three inches long, but when Anna ran her finger over it, she saw that the tip of the metal had been bent, folded over like a piece of paper. She lifted the arrow and turned it over in her hand; it was then that she saw the small piece of paper rolled tightly around the shaft. Pulling it loose, she placed the arrow on the wall and opened the note. ‘A mere arrow is useless against a beast,’ it read. It took another two readings before the meaning sunk into her frozen mind, and then she smiled. Of course, she should have known that!

She remained sitting on the wall until the cold seeped through her clothes. Tucking the note into her bodice with fingers that were turning blue, she wrapped the arrow in the cloth once more, and carefully hid it in the folds of her gown. She had just risen to her feet when she heard a voice calling her name, and turned to see Frank heading her way.

“I have been sent to look for you,” he said. “The other ladies are concerned you were abducted during the night. I told them I doubted that, since you are too wily to allow someone to make off with you, but they insisted I search the grounds for your dead and lifeless body.”

“Well, here I am, quite safe and sound,” she said. She turned towards the palace entrance and he fell in step next to her.

“I know the way. No need to accompany me.”

“Oh, I know you know the way,” he said. “I’m just wondering what you are up to. Perhaps you are a spy.”

“A spy?” Anna laughed. “What a ludicrous idea. I went for a walk.”

Frank grunted. “Ladies do not go for walks when it is this cold,” he said.

“Don’t you know,” Anna replied, sweeping past him, “I am not a lady!”

Chapter 24

The colder temperatures remained, along with a mixture of rain, sleet, and snow, which made the surrounding countryside bleak and drear. The damp found its way into every corner of the palace, settling into the quilts, worming through garments, and shrouding the rugs placed on the cold, stone floors. Fires were lit in every room, their blazing heat creating a small circle of warmth that drew people around in a huddle.

But the cold did not dampen the spirits of those who lived and worked within the walls of the palace, for Christmastide was fast approaching, bringing with it plans for feasting and music, dances and plays. The courtyard was a hive of activity as entertainers came and went – mummers and musicians, actors, jugglers, and jesters. Children ran through the corridors, their squealing laughter and noisy games adding to the cacophony. The royal children joined in the games, until they were dragged away by a disapproving nurse, back to their lessons. At every meal the great hall was packed with people seeking shelter from the cold and warm food in their bellies, conversation and laughter rising above them all and drifting to the rafters. The king and queen presided over the meals from their table on the dais, and laughed as uproariously as the common folk on the floor. Different entertainments were offered every evening after dinner – a yarn from a traveling storyteller; a conjuror who made items appear out of the air; a haunting tale sung in verse. And when no entertainment had been planned, the tables were pushed away for an impromptu dance.

There was only one thing that disturbed Anna’s peace in these happy and busy days. Max was a frequent visitor at the palace, and a favorite amongst the woman at court. Despite Kathleen’s assertion that he was pursuing Mistress Jane, there was nothing in his manner to suggest that he held her in any special regard. In fact, it seemed that all that was needed to engage his attention was a swish of a skirt. He smiled at every woman who passed his way, and offered his hand for every dance. When his eye caught Anna’s, he would smile in a friendly manner, and nod his head, but then turn to the next woman with a smile equally as warm. Of course, Anna knew that she had lost any chance of engaging Max’s heart – the fact that he had stayed away for so long confirmed that – but she had hoped he would give her a little more regard than the other women at court. They were related by marriage, were they not? But he did not speak to her beyond a few words of greeting, and did not seek out her company. In fact, apart from those few polite words, he ignored her completely. And so she ignored him too – as much as she was able. She maintained her distance when the tables were pushed aside for a dance, and took her place on benches far away from where he sat. And when she was near him, she steeled her heart against the man whose memory lay deep in the recesses of her soul.

It had been another gray day, but tonight there was to be a special treat. A monk had arrived at court that morning, and he had in his possession a copy of
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight
. The story of the strange knight who challenged one of King Arthur’s men to deliver a felling blow to his neck was not unfamiliar amongst well-learned people, but few had heard the original tale. And tonight, after supper, Friar James would read his precious manuscript in the great hall. The monk had been given a place of honor at the raised table, and ale had flowed freely into his cup all evening. Beside him sat Rupert, who listened resignedly as the man attempted to engage him in animated conversation, crumbs flying from his mouth as he punctuated his sentences with a fat fist clutched around a shank of lamb, the other clutching a hunk of bread.

Anna watched in delighted amusement as Rupert leaned a few inches away from the spray of food and ale, a look of distaste souring his expression. His eyes roved the hall, then stopped when they reached her. She looked away, turning to hear what Kathleen was saying, but something drew her eyes back to the prince. He was watching her thoughtfully, his eyes narrowed, and when his gaze caught hers, he stared at her for a long moment before turning away. Anna glanced down at her hands. There had been something disconcerting in his look, as though he were a hunter, and she, the prey.

The remains of the dinner were cleared away, and there was a scraping of chairs and benches as people settled down to enjoy their evening’s entertainment. A high stool had been placed at one end of the dais, where Friar James would sit and tell his tale, while the king and queen remained at the table. The two younger children were in the nursery, but Prince John had been given permission to join the adults in the hall and listen to the story. He sat beside his father, glowing with excitement as the monk prepared to tell his tale. Anna sat near the dais, and when Rupert rose to his feet she glanced up, her eye drawn to the movement. He stepped from the platform and bent over Blanche, whispering something in her ear. Her eyes flew to Anna for the briefest moment as he spoke, and she nodded. Anna watched curiously. There was something strange about Blanche’s expression. She wondered what it could mean, then pushed the matter from her mind as the monk began his tale.

“King Arthur lay royally at Camelot at Christmastide with many fine lords, the best of men, all the rich brethren of the Round Table, with right rich revel and careless mirth. Suddenly there burst in at the hall door an awesome being, in height one of the tallest men in the world. All green was this man and his clothing, and the horse that he rode was of the same color too.”

The story told of how Sir Gawain rose to the challenge of exchanging blows with the green knight. The unknown knight would accept the first blow, and then, one year later, Sir Gawain would have to present himself to accept his blow. With one swift swing of his axe, Sir Gawain cut off the head of the green knight, who stood motionless before Sir Gawain. But the challenge was not finished, as Gawain quickly realized when the headless body picked up its head and placed it back on his neck.

The crowd gasped in surprise, and Anna shivered. A headless body was enough to give anyone nightmares. She glanced at the dais, and smiled when she saw Prince John’s pale face.

A sigh of relief was heard through the room when Sir Gawain’s life was spared one year later, and Anna could not help grinning. There had been no dragons, but it was still a marvelous tale.

“Did you enjoy the story?” she asked Kathleen, who was sitting across from her. Kathleen shivered.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep tonight,” she whispered, glancing around the hall as though she expected a green knight to appear from the shadows.

“You’re not the only one,” Anna said with a laugh, looking pointedly at the main table. Rupert had returned to his seat near his brother, and during the course of the story, young Prince John had maneuvered his way to his uncle’s side. When Rupert whispered something in his nephew’s ear, she saw him turn a wide-eyed gaze on his uncle, who returned the look with upraised eyebrows. A woman came forward – one of the nursery staff – and held her hand out to John, but it was the queen who, turning around to see her son, led the young prince away. Rupert watched for a moment, then he too rose and followed the exiting pair. A hubbub was growing as people rose to their feet and chatted excitedly. The monk had been a wonderful reader, and approval of the evening seemed to be the consensus of the crowd.